


You Won't Know Until You've Tried

by just_ann_now



Category: Swordspoint Series - Ellen Kushner
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-09
Updated: 2012-07-09
Packaged: 2017-11-09 12:54:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/455675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_ann_now/pseuds/just_ann_now
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Godwin began to have the disconcerting feeling that Tremontaine and St Vier had their eyes on him.  They always seemed to be turned in his direction; he felt certain that they were talking about him. And for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Won't Know Until You've Tried

**Author's Note:**

  * For [manyfacesofme22](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=manyfacesofme22).



**You Won't Know Until You've Tried**

Deborah Filisand's engagement party was not quite _the_ social event of the year, but Michael Godwin sensed a frisson of excitement the moment he walked in. It took only a quick survey of the ballroom to understand why: The Duke Tremontaine and his lover, St Vier, were there. For all that much of the nobility pretended to be aghast at his behavior, he was still Tremontaine, and a social (and economic, and political) force to be reckoned with. He and St Vier were always an elegant pair, even if the swordsman seemed much more sedate nowadays than when he had been young and wild and the darling of the Hill. 

All eyes followed them, discreetly or not. There were raised eyebrows, shrugged shoulders, smiles genuine and not-so-genuine as the Duke and his companion engaged in chitchat with the other guests while on their way to greet the guests of honor. Deborah Filisand blushed, eyes sparkling, when Tremontaine bowed low to wish her well; her intended, Andrew Monteith, kept glancing at St Vier's hand, always on his blade, as if afraid that his right to his betrothed was about to be challenged. 

As he made his way around the ballroom, toward his own intended, Rosamund Davenant, Godwin began to have the disconcerting feeling that Tremontaine and St Vier had their eyes on him. They always seemed to be turned in his direction; he felt certain that they were talking about him. And for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why.

~*~

"Are you ready to leave now?" Tremontaine' s voice was smooth as silk as he and St Vier stepped out from an alcove, blocking Michael's path.

"Why have you two been staring at me?" Michael demanded. "What's going on?"

"It's very simple; we want to sleep with you, and the sooner we leave, the more time we'll all have to enjoy it. Richard's not good at small talk, and he says I talk too much sometimes, so we decided the direct approach would probably work best. Here's your cloak, " Tremontaine replied, draping it helpfully over Michael's shoulders, "and I've already sent a footman to have your carriage brought 'round."

"What? No. No. I've just arrived. There are some people here I need to- " He scanned the ballroom frantically, searching for Rosamund. "Wait, _what_ did you say?"

"For heaven's sake, the only reason we even came to this thing was because we knew you'd be here. You see these ridiculous people all the time; give it a rest for tonight. This is a seduction, not an abduction, the opportunity of a lifetime. You don't want to botch it, do you?"

In spite of his better judgement, Michael began to laugh. "I suppose you're right about that. But no flowers? Fancy pastries? Enameled snuffboxes, embroidered gloves? Do you two have so little experience in seduction?"

St Vier flashed him a sudden, bright grin, reminding him of another smile, another time, what seemed a lifetime ago, but wasn't, really. "Well, to be honest, we've not done this before. But Alec _will_ have what he wants, when he wants it; there never seems to be much need of discussion, or even planning, to be honest."

"Richard! You make me sound like I'm completely controlled by my baser instincts!"

"You are, my heart, you are."

~*~

Outside in the courtyard, Tremontaine paused. "Our place, or yours?"

Michael considered for a moment. It had been years since he'd been to Tremontaine House, years since he'd thought of Diane, and the hours spent in her bed - "Mine, I think."

"Good choice." Tremontaine nodded. _Does he know?_ Michael wondered. _Of course he does. Well, that part of the past is past._

And then they were in his carriage, Tremontaine and St Vier sitting on either side of him. The door had scarcely closed before Tremontaine's mouth was on his, Tremontaine's tongue exploring his mouth, Tremontaine's fingers tangled in his hair. _Unngh_ , was all Michael could say, and he felt Tremontaine's body rocking with laughter. Then it was St Vier's turn. _This is madness,_ Michael thought, and then he gave up on thinking.

~*~

"Don't disturb us until we call for you. There will be three for breakfast; we'll have it in bed. Off with you, now." The footman glanced at Michael, then scurried away.

 _Lots to gossip about in the kitchen tonight,_ Michael thought with chagrin.

The walk upstairs seemed interminable; fortunately, Tremontaine kept up a steady stream of chatter. The carpet, the paintings on the wall, even the plasterwork on the ceilings were all found worthy of comment. But when Michael stopped, indicating his bedroom, Tremontaine seemed momentarily at a loss. 

"We've not actually shared a bed with anyone else, not since we've been - but Richard _did_ mention it, and it's his birthday, after all," he said. 

"And I'm to be his birthday present?" 

"It seemed like it would be fun," St Vier said, "And once we started thinking about it, well, there hardly seemed any reason not to go ahead with the idea." 

Michael snorted. "Yes, definitely the opportunity of a lifetime, for all three of us."

~*~

"Well then," Tremontaine said, leering like a stage villain; Michael wasn't sure if he should laugh, or pretend to cower, like the maiden in the play. "Richard will have you first; I'll watch, and take my turn after." Michael felt himself flush.

"Alec," St Vier said, "you're embarrassing him. Stop it." And then, to Michael's utter surprise, St Vier took him in his arms for a slow, deep kiss.

_This is....delicious_ , Michael thought, letting himself melt against St Vier's compact, muscular body. When they came up for air, St Vier smiled into Michael's eyes, sliding Michael's jacket off his shoulders. He let out a soft sigh as St Vier slowly unbuttoned his shirt, drawing the fine linen down his arms, gently kissed his way down Michael's belly. Skillfully St Vier unfastened Michael's breeches, then knelt before him, and with warm, firm lips, set to his task. 

Michael was dizzy, breathless with pleasure. While St Vier was using his mouth, Tremontaine used his fingertips, brushing them across Michaels's nipples, and then down his back. Soon he had both hands on Michael's hips. Michael could feel Tremontaine's hardness grinding against him, and his ragged breathing; that, and what St Vier was doing with lips and tongue and teeth, was enough to send him over the edge. 

He staggered, weak-kneed, St Vier caught him, looking up and smiling. The three of the tumbled onto Michael's wide bed. 

Then it was Michaels's turn to unfasten buttons and laces; to peel linen and velvet from warm skin; his turn to kiss and lick and stroke; to be thrilled by St Vier's gasp, and Tremontaine's groan.

~*~

By the time they called for breakfast, it was closer to lunch. Michael made an offhand comment about the strawberries that caused them to send the berries back downstairs to be dipped in dark chocolate; when all the strawberries were gone they called for more little pots of chocolate glaze, and caramel sauce, and spent several hours making very inventive use of it.

By then it was mid-afternoon, and they were ready for a nap. After that there seemed little point to getting out of bed at all, so Michael jotted off some notes, making his apologies to Rosamund for leaving the Filisand party so abruptly, and canceling his evening plans. The footman was all a-gog, trying to peek into the room, but Michael hustled him away quickly. 

They had a picnic supper on the bedroom floor and then entertained themselves for several hours there, until Tremontaine complained that he was cold and they returned to the wide, rumpled bed.

~*~

Sometime before dawn Michael woke up. In the flickering lamplight he saw that St Vier was also wake, Tremontaine curled in his arms. _They look happy_ , Michael thought. _I am no innocent, but I have never felt as comfortable, as natural in lovemaking as these two; it was like poetry to watch them, more arousing than anything I have ever experienced. Yet they seem so peaceful together; I wish - well, I hope someday I will experience something like what they have._

As Michael watched, St Vier brushed a strand of Tremontaine's hair from his face, lifting the strand to kiss it before tucking it back behind Tremontaine's ear. The Duke stirred lightly, curling closer to St Vier, and the swordsman caught Michael's gaze. He smiled at him, then closed his eyes, settling Tremontaine closer. 

It was a clear dismissal, but a gentle one, and Michael realized with some surprise that it didn't hurt. _I doubt I shall ever lie with a man again,_ he thought, _for how could any pleasure match what I've experienced here, these past few days?_ Tremontaine's body arching beneath his, his sharp guttural cries; St Vier watching, eyes bright as he stroked himself in matching rhythm. The scent and taste of St Vier's skin, his secret, hidden places. The beauty of their three bodies tangled together, sweat-slicked and gleaming in the lamplight. 

Best to savor these memories, treasure them, and devote himself now to Rosamund and the future. Smiling, he rolled over, and soon was asleep again.  

~*~

Mid-morning sunlight spilled around the edges of the draperies, teasing the three men awake. Tremontaine stretched. "We probably should be leaving. Richard, didn't you have an appointment today, someone you needed to -"

"Do I? I don't - " Richard mumbled, burying his head under a pillow. Then he quickly unburied it and rolled up onto his elbows. "Yes, you're right, at the Spotted Dog. We'd best be going, then."

"I -" Michael began, unsure of the proper etiquette here. The whole experience was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. He wondered how angry Rosamund would be if he sent another note, pleading continued illness, and begging off their plans for the evening. "I've been in bed for the past two days..." It wouldn't be a lie, exactly; but then he remembered how his footmen had smirked. No, best to get up, bathe and dress and face the consequences like a man. "Breakfast?" he asked, but breathed a silent sigh of relief when Tremontaine and St Vier declined.

~*~

**CODA**

"Well, what did you think?" Richard asked, as they strolled up the Hill to Tremontaine House. Their evening attire was disheveled, and their cheeks bore several days of stubble. 

"Enjoyable, but oh my, it was messy. What _will_ these dissolute nobles think of next?" 

"I didn't mean about the chocolate. I meant the sleeping with other people." 

"Oh, _that_ ," Alec drawled, glancing sideways down at Richard. He grinned. "It was _sort_ of enjoyable, though it did seem more complicated than it was worth."

Richard smiled. "That's exactly what I thought."

Alec stopped abruptly in the middle of the street. "Let's go down to Riverside House for breakfast, shall we? My cook down there can coddle an egg like nobody's business, and I want to walk straight through the City, horrifying people by looking so debauched. We'll bow to all the ladies, and wink at all the men." 

And that's just what they did.


End file.
